Page 15 of Men of Fort Dale: The Complete Series

“You scared the hell out of me!”

Dean blinked, turning to close the door. “Old habits.”

Dean drew his hand away. “What are you doing here?”

Dean’s gaze was guarded. “That’s fair. I guess it’s about time we talked. Should I get us something to drink?”

“Umm, is that a good idea?” Sloane asked, his cheeks flushing as he remembered the sight of Dean’s face between his legs.

Dean closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I guess not.”

“Plus, I’d rather be sober for this anyway,” Sloane admitted.

“I’m not sure if that’s supposed to make me feel better. And if so, whether or not it’s working,” Dean said slowly.

Sloane sighed, rubbing his hands over his face as he tried to think about what he wanted to say.

The thought sent a ripple of frustration through him since that was all he’d been thinking about for the past couple of days.

Everything he’d rehearsed, broken down, and memorized had fled his mind.

He was going to end up screwing everything up like he had the last time he’d tried to fix things between him and Dean when all he wanted was to make things right, make them perfect.

Warm fingers slipped into his hand, pulling it away from his face. Sloane opened his eyes, looking down at his hand and then up at Dean. His friend was smiling softly and squeezed Sloane’s hand gently.

“It’s okay, Sloane,” Dean said softly.

“I should be the one saying that to you. You’re the one who’s been hurt the most by all this,” Sloane grumbled.

“It hasn’t exactly been a cakewalk for you,” Dean said.

Sloane gripped Dean’s hand tighter, taking comfort in the familiar contact. “The difference is that I’ve only been bothered by this whole thing for a while. You’ve been hurting over this for years, Dean.”

Dean smiled sadly. “I can’t blame you for being bothered by it, and I was used to it. It’s not like it was your fault.”

Sloane winced. “I didn’t mean I was bothered in like...a bad way. I just?—”

He grunted, turning away with a growl of frustration.

It was exactly like he’d feared. Nothing was coming out of his mouth right.

His family was far better at explaining their emotions than he was at even understanding them.

Never had he hated that shortcoming as much as now, when he was trying to figure out how to explain his thoughts to Dean.

It felt like everything he said was going to wound Dean more.

“Like, look. Being with you is great, it’s wonderful. Shit, even before all this, I said that being around you was better than just about every girl I was with. I’d rather you be the one laying your head on my leg than any girl in the past five years,” Sloane said.

Dean chuckled. “I remember you saying once that it was a shame I couldn’t give you a blowjob along with the good cuddles.”

Sloane cringed. “God, Dean, I’m so sorry.”

Dean raised one shoulder and let it drop. “It’s okay.”

Sloane shook his head. “But it’s not.”

He reached out, unable to help himself from taking Dean in his grasp again.

They were good at talking, and they were good at being around one another, but they had always been at their best when they were touching.

Contact between them had always come so easily, and even with everything twisted and confused in his head, Sloane still took great comfort in touching Dean.

The sensation was muddled not only with Sloane’s ache over what he’d been inadvertently putting Dean through for years but the memory of their drunken night together.

Never once had he looked at Dean in a sexual way.

Dean was just Dean to him. Now, though, his mind was filled with the memory of Dean’s body pressed against his, the feel of his lips on him, and the sight and sensation of Dean’s mouth wrapped around his cock.

Since that night, Sloane had been stuck with the constant nagging feeling of being different.

Logically, he knew it had to do with what happened between him and Dean, and despite his conversation with his mother, the reality hadn’t completely clicked into place.

Now that he was staring Dean in the face, feeling his skin against his, Sloane was starting to understand.

Something inside him had flipped, altered, rearranged, or whatever word he thought might apply to the moment.

Dean cocked his head. “Sloane?”

Sloane shook his head. “Look, Dean, I-I don’t know how I feel.”

“I can understand that. There’s been a lot thrown at you.”

Sloane sighed. “I can’t imagine what it must be like for you.”

“I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but after nearly six years, I’ve gotten used to it. Don’t give me that look. It’s not bad, it means I’ve had more practice. Plus, I mean, I don’t know exactly what’s going on in your head right now, but I know you’re confused,” Dean said.

Sloane looked down at their feet. “I am, but that’s not...a bad thing? I mean, you got a little more hands-on with me than usual.”

“I did.”

“And then you?—”

“I did.”

Sloane looked up, scanning Dean’s face. “And...I liked it.”

Dean sucked in a breath. “You did?”

Sloane frowned. “I shouldn’t have, you know?

I’ve never thought of any guy like that, and I’ve definitely never thought about you like that.

Hell, whenever someone brought up the idea that you and I might be like that, I just shrugged it off.

Come to think of it, I always wondered why it bothered you more, but now I understand. ”

Dean leaned his face onto Sloane’s hand, smiling. “I never realized you noticed. And here I was, thinking I was so subtle.”

Sloane watched him, touched by the softness on Dean’s face. “I always notice what’s going on with you, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes flashed open, dark in the dim light but full of wonder and warmth. A slow smile spread across his face, and the sight sent Sloane’s heart skipping like never before. It was as though, in kissing Sloane, Dean had somehow flipped a switch inside Sloane that he’d never known existed.

“And I meant what I said. I did like what happened, but it’s just...jumbled in my head. Like, I shouldn’t have liked it, but at the same time, I want more,” Sloane said softly.

Dean blinked slowly, hope shining from his eyes. “Yeah?”

Sloane nodded. “I just...don’t know how.”

Dean chuckled, reaching up to place his hands on Sloane’s upper arms. “You’re already partway there, big guy. It’s just a step further than what we normally do when we spend time together.”

Sloane chuckled. “I think it’s a few steps further than that.”

“You know what I mean.”

And Sloane did. In truth, Dean and Sloane had never been afraid to touch, lean against one another, or cuddle.

One of Sloane’s admittedly short-lived friends with benefits had witnessed him and Dean together while watching a movie.

She had stopped by to pick up the tablet she’d accidentally left behind in Sloane’s apartment and had found the two of them curled up on the couch.

She’d given them an odd look but said nothing, yet Sloane hadn’t heard from her again and hadn’t thought twice about it.

Sloane stepped forward, bringing his hands down Dean’s sides slowly.

There was more muscle than Sloane was used to, and none of the curves.

Dean sidled closer as he allowed himself to press their bodies together.

Again, Sloane noted the difference in how hard Dean was compared to the softness of his previous partners.

Weird as it was mentally, his body stirred to life, albeit with a bit of confusion.

While he most certainly wouldn’t say he was going to start finding guys worth fucking, some part of him simply translated the confusion to ‘it’s Dean.

’ And at the end of the day, that was all that really mattered to him.

Angry or happy, hurt or healthy, the fact that he was a guy, Dean was Dean, and Sloane wanted Dean.

Sloane bent his head, pulling his arms tighter around Dean’s waist and pressing their lips together.

He barely noticed how Dean’s lips were firmer than Sloane was used to as a zing of electricity shot through him.

For a moment, he was lost between disbelief at what he was doing and surprise at how pleasant the sensation was.

Then, Dean shifted, wriggling his body as he gained a more stable footing, and Sloane’s worried thoughts slipped away.

Pulling Dean as close as possible, Sloane leaned him back, kissing him even more firmly.

Beneath Sloane’s touch, Dean’s body became firmer yet softer, as though the man was melting against him.

Sloane broke the kiss, letting out a sharp gasp.

Dean was staring up at him with a doe-eyed, dazed expression.

His cheeks were pink, and his lips were ever so slightly swollen, an indication that Sloane might have kissed him harder than he thought.

There was a warmth and a need in Dean’s dark eyes Sloane had never seen before, and some deep-seated part of him never wanted Dean to look at anyone else like that.

“Wow,” Dean whispered.

Sloane nodded slowly. “Wow, is right.”

Dean took a deep breath, letting himself inch back while watching Sloane’s face. For a moment, disappointment filled Sloane as he felt Dean’s body lose contact with his. Then, it occurred to him that Dean was trying to play it safe, giving Sloane space without demanding too much.

Sloane tightened his grip, keeping Dean still. “I’m not done.”

Dean looked at him, one corner of his mouth curling up. “Yeah?”

Sloane nodded. “That was as easy as you said it would be.”

Dean’s eyes darted over Sloane’s face. “But?”

Sloane’s heart hammered, and he felt a little lightheaded, but he forced himself to speak, knowing he needed to say the words and knowing he meant them.

“I want to see the rest.”